


The right words.

by Ethel09



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8586517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethel09/pseuds/Ethel09
Summary: Whatever he says, he never chooses the right words. Ross's and Demelza's thoughts during their estrangement, until their final reconciliation.





	1. If at least you could see this from my perspective.

"Demelza, we cannot continue like this. If at least you could see this from my perspective !"

His words hardly expressed what he really meant. But these days it was as if, facing Demelza, his mind was numb, paralized by guilt and fear.

Guilt from what he had done, and fear that her love for him was no more.

Hadn't she said almost as much ? She'd said she had always looked up to him. Put him on a pedestal, only God knew why. And that now, he'd fallen from it. Was it not what had happened to his love for Elizabeth ? Hadn't her decision to marry George and the night they had spent together made disappear the idealized image he had of her, to the point he didn't know what his feelings for her were, now, or even if he still had some ? What if Demelza, too, had loved a man who didn't really exist, all this time ? A far more perfect version of him ?

If she couldn't understand that he was a man who could make terrible mistakes, who had made many ones already, then the man she loved was not really him.

She was still ranting about how he probably couldn't wait to go to Elizabeth. And he knew that she wouldn't believe him if he said that he wouldn't, couldn't do that.

But he was here, with her, wasn't he ? When she'd have had enough time to see he wasn't going anywhere, then maybe, she'd believe him.

He went to fetch the letter. He wasn't surprised by the bed in his study. He'd expected as much. It was nothing more than he deserved.

The letter wasn't from Elizabeth, which was a relief. He still didn't know what to do about her. He didn't want her to marry George. But he couldn't go to her.

Yet the letter was an opportunity to go away and to gather his thoughts. He came back to the kitchen.

"I may be out late tomorrow night", he said. "I'm going to Truro and I'm unsure as to when I wil be back."

"Why don't you just say it, Ross : 'I'm going to Elizabeth' ?"

When had he ever lied to Demelza ? Yet now she seemed unable to believe a word of what he could say. Not even that he'd never deliberately hurt her. He tried again to make her undertand that what had happened that fatal night had been, on his part, some kind of temporary insanity. Some kind of possession, indeed, as he couldn't recognize the man he had been.

But once again, the way she interpreted what he'd said was completely wrong :

"Of course. No fault of yours ! Just a greater power and you and her helpless to resist."

"In a way, yes." But not in the way you think it was. He hadn't been overpowered by love, but by much more obscure forces.

How to make her understand ? Demelza 's open heart had always seemed to have to ability to understand everything, even without words. And so he said :

"Perhaps I might have hoped for some inderstanding, knowing you as I do."

"Knowing me to be kind and simple and giving ? Would you like me to throw myself off Hendrawna cliffs so that you might bury me at your own convenience and wed again at your leisure ?"

Could she really imagine that he'd want her dead ? It was not possible. She was just completely out of his mind with anger. What was the use of such excessive, angry words ? How could he try to explain, as difficult as it was, if she was decided to interprete wrongly all what he had to say ?

He tried to say as much. But then again, his pooly chosen words made only her anger rose even higher.

TBC


	2. A greater power.

Why was he still here, with her ?

Because, contrary to what she'd said only a little time before, out of anger and despair, he was an honorable man. He would never desert his wife and child to live with his mistress. Not because society would condemn him for that. But because he loved Jeremy, and she also, in his own way.

Only not the way she'd hoped he did.

Her happiness, when at last he'd told her that he loved her, that she had redeemed him, had been beyond anything imaginable. And she'd been so proud she had been able to heal his wounds.

Only she hadn't, not really.

She'd begun to realize how attached he still was to Elizabeth when he'd spent so much time with her, after Francis's death. But then, she knew that Elizabeth, as the real lady she was, didn't know a thing about how to manage the family business, and not even about the maintenance of a big house. And Ross, she knew, had sworn to his uncle, on his deathbed, that he would take care of Francis. She knew he'd always take care of Francis's family.

Then, she'd discovered that Ross had bought back Elizabeth's shares in Weal Leasure. She hadn't been surprised by his decision, as she knew he would consider that the money Francis had invested in the venture didn't belong to him, that he had to give it back, considering Elizabeth's situation. But what had hurt her deeply was that he hadn't told her about his decision before. As if he hadn't trusted her not to react badly, to be jealous. And if he could have feared such reaction, was it not because he had felt guilty ?

And, then, that fatal night had come. What was breaking her heart was the knowledge that Ross's feelings for Elizabeth were so strong, had such power over him, that they had ultimately defeated his extreme sense of honor and loyalty. That they had been able to make such a man fall that low.

Such irrepressible, ingrained feelings !

How could she ever fight that ? And how could she accept to live forever at his side, knowing that ?

It was best to make him go to Elizabeth. Then, it would be time to try to figure out how to live without him.

That's why she wouldn't show him her pain, only her anger. There was more than enough of it to hide most of the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC (next chapter : back to Ross's POV)
> 
> Thank you for the reviews ! It is such an incentive to keep on writing !


	3. Do you not want her ?

She was walking in the waves, mindless of her half drenched dress

"Ross, how kind of you to come and meet me", she said coldly. "Did you have a pleasant time at Trenwith ?"

It was plain that she had just cried. How could he ever forgive himself what he'd done to her ?

Did she really believe that he'd gone to see Elizabeth ? Would she think so any time he came back from somewhere, now?

"I told you I went to Truro to meet Richard Tonkin."

"Whatever you say Ross. Do as you will. Go and live with her if you wish."

Didn't she care any more of what he did ? Had he really disappointed her to the point she didn't love him anymore ? He felt as if his heart had stopped, as if the sudden tightening of his troat would choke him. How could he breath and live without her loving him back ?

If he told her that he'd not returned to Trenwith, that he couldn't go back there, she would not believe him.

Maybe she'd believe him if Elizabeth, tired of waiting, decided to go on with her disastrous, treacherous decision. Had Elizabeth seen him today, when he'd stopped in front of Trenwith, only to spur his horse one moment later ? If so, she knew now that he'd never come.

"It's quite possible that her marriage will still go ahead."

The idea was still unbearable, but so was the idea of talking to Elizabeth. Looking at her house from afar, he'd been unable to go further, even as he knew she expected him and that in a way, he owed her that visit. But what could he have said to her anyway ? That he was desperately ashamed of what they had done ? Hardly an incentive to refuse George.

"No doubt you did your best to prevent it", Demelza said sarcastically.

"No doubt I did."

Had he ? Elizabeth had given to him what was not his to take, and now he was walking away from her. He was going to fail Elizabeth. Because it was either that, or to fail Demelza herself.

"So does she love George, then."

"No, she does not."

Of that at least, Ross was sure, as he was certain that if Elizabeth ever married that creep, he'd make her utterly miserable. In front of Trenwith, he had wondered of he still could find a way to prevent that. But how, as going to see her would be betraying Demelza again, and making all what she believed now seem true?

But maybe Elizabeth would come to her senses. Or maybe he could explain better to Verity what kind of man George was (she probably wasn't aware of all the harm the man had done to Francis) and ask her to talk Elizabeth out of that mariage. Maybe, one way or another, in the end she would say 'no' to George, in no uncertain terms. And maybe, after a while, when Demelza would realize that in spite of Elizabeth still being free, he wasn't going anywhere, that he didn't even see Elizabeth anymore, maybe she could at last forgive him.

"Demelza, I cannot blame you for your anger. But if you could bide awhile, have a little patience…"

"Patience ?"

"… this thing will play itself out, sooner or later."

"I see. So you just expect me to sit and twiddle my thumbs untill you decide whether of not you want me ?"

Was it the moment to try and explain her what had happened the morning after that fatal night, and how he had waken up at the side of a woman he didn't even desire anymore ? After ten years of devotion, the shock of feeling such a sudden void in the part of his heart he's always kept for Elizabeth had been so unexpected and so strong he didn't know yet how to figure it out. Let alone explain it. Yet he had to try.

"It's not a question of wanting you. It's a question of not wanting her."

For years, he'd thought that Demelza was his earthly love, and Elizabeth his ideal one. And he'd wanted both. But now…

"Do you not want her ?"

"No !"

Such was his instinctive and heartfelt answer. Elizabeth's initial acceptance of George's proposal had killed his devotion for her. And as strange as it was in his own eyes, it seemed that he didn't even want her anymore.

But he could read in Demelza's eyes that she didn't believe him. And how could have she, after what he have just done ? Besides, was it the complete truth ? Or was it the guilt he felt for betraying and hurting Demelza so much that had temporarily killed his feelings for Elizabeth ?

"I don't know", honesty forced him to add. "Sometimes …"

Sometimes, he wanted to say, I wonder if I loved Elizabeth, or only some figment of my imagination. But how was it possible that he had remained ten years under such illusion ? He didn't know if his feelings for her would ever come back.

But these ideas were so disturbing, so new, that the words wouldn't come. And Demelza looked so angry, so bitter. How could she believe him, when he himself didn't understand what was happening to him ?

He hesitated one moment too long and she turned around.

"I'm not content to be second best", she said.

"Have I asked you to be ?"

"Have you not made me so ?"

"Why am I here, Demelza ? Why d'you suppose I'm still here ?"

If she couldn't believe anything he said anymore, wasn't this, at least, the proof that he'd chosen her ?

"I don't know why you're still here, Ross. Because Elizabeth can't make up her mind ?"

"No !"

It was he who couldn't decide what he should do with Elizabeth, and as a consequence, did nothing. But Demelza was convinced he had come to see her.

"Because Elizabeth does not want you ? Because she knows George is the better bet ?"

Demelza was the one with the real nobility, that nobility of character she'd assumed he possessed. The fact that she could stoop to say that kind of reply, gratuitous and intentionally hurtful, was the measure of how much he'd hurt her. A new wave of guilt and despair washed over him. There was nothing he could say that would ever undo what he'd done. Nothing she would believe, anyhow.

Yet he had still to tell her the news he'd come to share with her, hoping that they could at least rejoice together about that.

"I came here with good news ! I came here to tell you that Blewitt can repay the money I lent him. We can reopen Grace !"

But she didn't reply and kept walking in the sea along the beach, away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In ep. 9, the moment we see Ross in front of Trenwith, obviously at a loss of what to do, could make suppose that he's still hesitating between Elizabeth and Demelza, an idea I absolutely hated. But considering what kind of man Ross is, IMO it's very likely that he would consider that he'd have owed her a visit after what had happened, that he'd still feel reponsabilities toward her.
> 
> I wasn't very fond of his anwers to Demelza in the scene on the beach, either. So I tried to explain them in a way less at odds with the honest and deeply caring character we love.
> 
> Did I succeed ? Please, do leave kudos or reviews !


	4. Has it come too late ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watching again the last episodes of the series, I decided that some addition to the lines was definitively needed in order to make Ross look less like a jerk. So, here's a revisited version of the scene between Ross and Demelza after the new lode has been found.

She could return to herself the question she had asked Ross.

Why was she still there ?

It had been more than a month since that horrible night she had cried herself to sleep only to wake up on the morning to the same nightmare. Elizabeth and George Warleggan were married now, and had gone for their honeymoon. From Demelza's point of view, they deserved each other perfectly.

Ross had just gone to the mine, again. He'd told her about a new lode they had found, and had tried to make her rejoice with him

"Has it come too late ?", he as asked.

Yes, it had. She would have given all these new prospects of wealth to be back to the years of hardship and happiness she had lived with him.

So she hadn't replied, and silence had filled the room.

Then, he'd launched into his usual protests of love, and of innocence of any kind of relationship with Elizabeth during the days following his night with her.

"Demelza, I'm so sorry I hurt you, I'd give everything to undo what has been done. How can I make you understand that you're the one I want at my side ? How many times will I have to swear that I haven't set foot at Trenwith since that cursed night ? I let her marry George, Demelza."

Had honor actually prevented Ross from going back to see the woman who had become his mistress ? But how could she believe that he hadn't made any other attempt to convince her not to marry George ? She had seen his pain, the day of the wedding.

Or maybe, after that night, he had waited for a sign from Elizabeth that had never come. The fine lady certainly had a keen eye on her own interests. Facing a choice between being a rich man's wife or a destitute one's mistress, she might have decided to deny once again her own feelings for the benefit of a life of luxury.

Of course, it wouldn't be like Ross to give himself credit for a restaint that was not his doing. But then, betraying her with another woman wasn't, either.

She knew that Ross would always feel honor-bound to stay with her. She knew as well what a poor liar he was.

So if he said that she was the one he loved, he had to believe it, in a way. Or rather, he pretended to believe it, not to have to face the facts, to admit them, even to himself : his undying and hopeless love for Elizabeth, who would always remain between them.

Only she wouldn't be able to resign herself to be an eternal second best, as Francis obviously had, in the last part of his life with Elizabeth. And she couldn't neglect her marital duty and find solace elsewhere either, as the same Francis had done before. She'd proved herself unable to.

What was left for her ? She couldn't spend her life, day after day, with a man who certainly cared for her, but who would always find her lacking in one essential point : she wasn't Elizabeth. She herself loved that man too much. It was too painful.

So why was she still there ? Why coundn't she find the strenght to get away from him ?


	5. What would you have me do ?

"Are you angry ?"

In other times, she'd have chided him for having lost his temper. Once he'd found it rather annoying sometimes, but her present indifference was far worst.

She shrugged.

"Little boys fighting."

In other times, she'd have asked what had happened, what George had done.

"He was offensive… about someone than myself."

She didn't comment. He knew she did't care in the least about what George thought of her.

"I can scarce believe we're losing Dwight."

The changing of subject was welcome, but as usual, he blurted his thoughts out before thinking.

"Nor I. It may be wonder if I should go."

The thought had come to him at once when Dwight had told him about his decision.

"Why ? Because your dearest friend is running away, so must you ?"

"Because I'm a soldier and if my regiment requires me…"

Now, when had he turned an hypocrite ? Both of them knew it wasn't the reason he'd considered to go. But deep down, he didn't really think he'd do it. He couldn't leave her, as long as he still hoped to win her back. And he wanted to watch his son grow up.

"Obviously, the thought of leaving you and Jeremy…"

"It wouldn't be the first time you've considered such a thing... How was Elizabeth ?"

Here they were again.

"She avoided me." And he hadn't had a moment of regret about that. He was about to tell Demelza as much when she added :

"As you've avoided her."

What did she mean ? That he had avoided Elizabeth after their night together ? Certainly not, as she refused to believe it. It was probably an allusion to the night itself.

Suddenly, he couldn't take that endlesss bickering anymore. What could he do to make her forgive him ? He was completely at a loss.

"What would you have me do ?"

"I would have you to be honest, Ross. To her. To me. To yourself."

This meant, probably, that he should confess his undying love to Elizabeth, here and now. But how could he do that when it was not the truth ? When he couldn't find even the faintest remain of his feelings for her in his heart, as strange as it still seemed to him.

"Am I not honest ? Where am I not honest now ?"

"Go to war, Ross. Play at soldier. Or stay here and save all Cornwall. What it is to be married to such a great man !"

Now what _that_ was supposed to mean ? That he was more interested in a fight, whatever it was, than by her ? That she didn't care at all of what he did and never would anymore ?

Maybe he actually should go. Living at her side without being able to reach her, to make her forgive him, and with the growing fear that he'd lost her forever was a torture he felt unable to endure forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review ! They keep me happy to go on writing. The turning point is coming soon.


	6. What is the point ?

It seems that these days, any kind of topic would lead to a fight.

This time, it had been about Caroline Penvenen, who had turned to be their mysterious benefactor, the one who had saved Ross from debtors' prison. Demelza had always known that Caroline admired Ross, and had even a crush on him. She hadn't minded. She knew that Ross's looks and magnetism would always catch the attention of other women. And Caroline was not like Elizabeth. She was a loyal, straightforward girl, with a deep, if somehow wary love for Dwight Enys.

But when she'd mentionned the harmless fancy Caroline had taken to him, he'd replied that he was a married man. That was really tantamount to giving the stick to be beaten with. She hadn't resisted making a bitter comment about how that fact, of course, made all the difference.

She'd expected the litany of apologies and promises of undying love that was his usual answer to any allusion to his past unfaithfulness. Apologies that couldn't change what had been done. Promises she couldn't believe.

But instead, he had just said, sighing : "Oh Demelza ! It was one night. How long will it take you to forgive me ?"

She knew that he didn't mean it the way it sounded. That he was alluding to the fact that he'd never seen Elizabeth again after that night, if he was to be believed.

Yet, that lame reply was too typical of any kind of insensitive and unfaithful husband not to infuriate her. How could he adress her as if she was just some kind of annoying, pettily jealous wife ? Couldn't he admit that what killed her wasn't even the fact that he'd spent a night with Elizabeth, but the fact that he'd always loved her and always would ?

She had suddenly felt the urge to hurt him. And so, she'd told him about her failed attempt to pay him back in his own coin after the ball at Werry house.

And for once, she was the one who had lost an occasion to keep her mouth shut. For as a consequence, she'd had to hear him compare her aborted fling to his ten years of devotion for Elizabeth. He'd even dared to doubt her statement that nothing had happened with McNeil besides a few kisses.

Out of her mind with pain and anger, she'd said these fatal words, that had hurt her as much as they were intended to hurt him :

"If you trust me not and I trust you not, then what is the point in this marriage at all ?"

The fire of anger, along with any other kind of light, had disappeared from Ross's eyes when he had replied.

"I entirely agree. What is the point ?"

Verity's impending delivery was an occasion to leave the house for a while. She was the one, now, who was running away.

But as the hours passed in the coach that was driving her to London, she couldn't help reminding some of the things Ross had said.

"I take no pride of my visit to her"…. Well, she certainly hoped so.

"It was the outcome of a devotion which on my side lasted ten years"… Lasted. He'd used the past tense. And at that moment, he was angry at her and wasn't weighing his words at all -if he ever did-. Was it possible that he actually said the truth when he repeated her that she was the one he loved, that he didn't really love Elizabeth ? And not something that he wanted to convince himself as much as her ?

No, she was kidding herself. It was far more likely that she was reading too much in a fortuitous use of tenses.


	7. What will you do ?

What had she expected by going to talk to Elizabeth ? That Miss butter-wouldn't- melt would express some regrets for destroying the marriage of the woman who had save her son's life – and at such a cost ?

Or maybe, that she would tell her that Ross's repeated assurance that he had not seen her since their night together, that he had let her marry George, was true?

But of course, Elizabeth had just stood there, with her usual collected, indecipherable expression, with barely a flash of uneasiness in her averted eyes. And then she had just said, with that distant, expressionless tone of hers, as if she didn't care a fig about the reply:

"What will you do ?"

Elizabeth had denied nothing, didn't regret anything. Under her eternal aloof demeanour, Demelza had guessed that she actually enjoyed the idea that she'd taken Ross from her.

Such was her anger, at the moment, that she had told her what she'd considered doing for a while, without being able to bring herself to actually do it :

"I'll take my son and I'll go back to my father's house."

Once said aloud, it had seemed indeed, the only thing left to do. She wouldn't live the rest of her life under the shadow of what Elizabeth and Ross had done, and she had said as much. Then she'd left, without looking back. She wished to never set eyes on that woman again, as long as she lived.

The shock caused by her injury at the hands of George Warleggan's guard had somehow weakened her resolve, or maybe, called her back to her senses. Once her wound patched up, she'd wondered if she was actually going to separate Jeremy from his loving father and to condemn him to live with her own boorish father, his sullen second wife and his endless religious ranting.

But Ross hadn't been at home, and according to Prudie, he'd gone to London. What ever for ? A sudden, chilling possibility had flashed into her mind.

Rushing to the library, she had opened Ross's trunk. Her heart had stopped. The uniform was not there.

It seemed that he had made the decision for her.

She had begun to pack with shaking hands, making plans in spite of the turmoil of her thoughts. She would not stay here, waiting for a return that might never happen. She'd go to her father's house, just long enough to write to Caroline and wait for her reply. Verity would have been a more obvious choice, but she couldn't force her to take her side against her beloved cousin. She'd ask Caroline if she could help her find a not too expensive lodging in London. Ross had certainly made sure that she'd received a comfortable income while he was away. Henshaw would run the mine.

She would find her own way, and she would d survive. Wasn't survival the first thing she'd ever learnt ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hated Elizabeth's behavior in that scene with Demelza in episode 10. Didn't you ?
> 
> Thank you very much to the people who have left reviews or kudos !


	8. My true, real and abiding love.

She had filled the trunks with cloths for her and Jeremy earlier, just before Ginny had come to warn her about the angry men that were marching toward Trenwith.

She was now packing the last things she wanted to take with her, but her gestures were slower and slower.

He wasn't gone. He had come back for her. And when he'd extended his hand to her, in front of George, in front of Elizabeth standing at her window, to help her to climb on the horse's back, he'd looked at her as if nothing else in the word existed but her.

And then, there was these words Agatha had whispered to her as she was making her way out of Trenwith after her useless attempt to rescue a man she hated, or rather, the ones she didn't hate in the household, along with the would-be assailant themselves.

Emerging from a side door, the old woman had stood in front of her in the dark corridor. She'd wanted to warn her about the angry men that were coming, to convince her to come with her, maybe, but the old lady had grasped her hand in her bony, cold fingers and whispered urgently :

"He never came back, child. You must know that. She waited, and waited. She spent her days at the window. She fainted when Verity appeared at the door instead of him. But he never came. And then she made her pact with the devil and brought him here."

"Don't let Ross go to France, girl, I've heard the upstart say he was gone, but that's not true. He's the only one now. The only one, she'd repeated cryptically."

Demelza had been transfixed, just a minut, before coming back to her senses. It was neither the place nor the time to listen to Agatha, least of all to question her. The priority was to take her into shelter.

She'd tried to pull on the old lady's hand. "Come with me, m'am, they won't harm you. But if you stay in the house…"

But Agatha had snatched her hand from hers. "I'll stay here, with my great-great nephew. They won't hurt us. Ross won't allow it."

Had the old lady already forgotten that Ross was gone, on his way to France ? Demelza had done her best not to show her shock, as that pathetic George was obviously taking such delight in conveying the new, but she'd felt as if her heart would stop. She knew that Ross had gone to enlist, but she'd thought she would see him one last time at least.

Agatha had disappeared in the dark. All what had been left for her to do had been to plead with her angry friends to prevent the impending disaster. But they hadn't listened to her, and everything had seemed lost untill Ross had arrived.

He'd came back for her. He'd not enlisted, and he'd made his way to Nampara in time to learn from Prudie what was happening. Considering the state of uncontrollable rage they were in, it was a mesure of these men's trust and respect for Ross that they had backed off.

Then they had rode back home as they used to, she in the saddle and he behind her, his arms around her waist. In a not so distant past he used to say he liked to ride that way because he could whisper in her ear, feel her in his arms. That they felt strong together. How many men would have ridden like this, letting the saddle and the reins to their wife ?

But was it not precisely because he was such an exceptional man that it was so painful to have lost him, or rather, to have never been the first in his heart ?

But was this true ? Or should she believe, at last, what he had kept repeating her for weeks ? Should she believe Agatha, as well ? The old lady was cunning. She might have said her that Ross had never come back to see Elizabeth because she wanted her to prevent Ross from going to war again.

But no. Demelza had noticed the brief flash of triumph in Elizabeth's eyes when George had said that Ross was already on his way to France. Would a woman who had sent her lover away herself be that glad that he would face such dangers again? Demelza understood better, now, Elizabeth's barely veiled hostility when she had confronted her in the park. What she'd had in front of her had been a disappointed, jealous woman. 

As her thoughts were running, she heard him entering the room. Her heart beating, she waited for him to speak, as she went on absentmindedly with her packing.

But his first words were about Elizabeth.

"So she's with child. George must be exultant to be in my family's home, and in full possession…"

"… of everything you hold dear ?", she said, finishing the sentence for him. How could she have ever fooled herself again, relying on an old woman's rambling and on Elizabeth's undeciphrable face ?

"Not everything,but many things I hold dear", he replied softly. Trust Ross for telling the truth at the worst possible moment.

Suddenly, she felt nothing, neither anger, nor pain. Nothing but the urge to be gone, far from that place.

"You'll get over it she said coldly". Lifting her bag, she began to climb down the steps.

"What are you doing ?" he said. Wasn't it obvious ?

"I'm taking Jeremy to my father's house. From there, who nows ?"

Who knew, indeed. Would she go to London, as she had considered to ? She did't have the strenght to make any plan anymore.

"You're leaving me ? I came back for you ! I chose not to go to war."

For one brief moment, indeed, she had almost believed that he'd come back for her. What was the real reason ? She didn't know nor care.

"'Tis not my concern what you choose, only what I choose. And why would I choose a man whose heart belonged to another."

"You are my wife !"

Was it all what he had to say to stop her ?

"Raised to the gutter to be a great lady ? I'll never be such one. But what do I care ? For I'm fierce and proud and steadfast and true and I'll not settle for second best."

"Why would you be ?"

Why ask, when he knew the answer ? Why force her to acknowledge the truth aloud, once again ? But why not say it, after all ?

"Because you love Elizabeth. Because you will always love Elizabeth. Because you cannot conceal your pain that George now posseses her, body and soul."

And suddenly, as if called back by the words, her own pain was back, sharper, more excruciating than ever.

"Do you deny it ?", she couldn't prevent herself to ask. Did she really wanted to hear again the painful truth ? Or to be lied to ?

And then he replied, in a slighly rough, hesitating voice : "I do not deny that I loved her. Long before I set eyes on you, she was my first.. perfect… untouchable love."

She turned around, tears blinding her. Damn him and his cruel honesty.

"Whereas I am dull and imperfect and ordinary."

"Not ordinary ! But yes, imperfect."

"Human !"

Human ? Was it meant as a compliment ? Or did he imply that Elizabeth was a goddess ? She stopped and turned to face him.

"Real !"

What did he meant ? Wasn't Elizabeth all too real ?

He went on, struggling with words in a very unusual way, as if these words were slowly bringing out some newfound truth from the deepest, most uncharted territory of his soul.

"What that night with Elizabeth taught me… And God nows, there should have been other ways for me to come to my senses, but y arrogance… my idiocy… has beeen spectacular."

Arrogance… idiocy. Not passion ? Was it really the way he saw that irresistible force that had thrown him into Elizabeth's arms ? She didn't move, waiting for him to go on.

"All I can say is, after that night.. because of it… I came to see that if you take an idealized love and bring it down, to the level of an imperfect one, it isn't the imperfect one which suffers."

I spite of an unusually confused way of expressing himself, this seemed to mean that his night with Elizabeth had made her fall from her pedestal. That she'd ceased to be an unreachable ideal to become just an ordinary woman. Ordinary, like Demelza herself ?

But then he said, in that heartfelt, passionate tone of his :

"My true..real..and abiding love is not for her. 'Tis for you."

A sudden, warm wave of hope washed all over her soul, like spring thaw on a frozen land.

"She will never come between us again", he added, and it sounded less as a promise than as a certainty.

She wanted to cry, she wanted to smile. She wanted so much to believe him. Why did she want it so much, why did she felt that maybe she could, whereas for weeks he'd repeated her that he loved her, that he didn't want Elizabeth, without being able to reach her behind the walls of her despair ?

Was it because of all these weeks he'd been there, waiting for her to forgive him ? Was it because of Agatha's whispered assurances ? Or because at last, he had managed to explain himself in a way that made sense and had found the right words ?

She looked into his eyes and saw all the love and devotion of the world.

He reached out for her tentatively, as if he was afraid she'd bolt – hadn't she been very near to do exactly that, just a moment ago ?- and she let him take her in his arms.

"I'm so sorry it took me so much time to explain properly, he whispered. I'm so sorry I hurt you. My fine, my loyal, my very sweet, my precious Demelza. I am so sorry... Can you forgive me ?"

It was not a matter of forgiveness. She'd always known she could forgive him all his mistakes, as he'd always forgiven hers. He'd said once that she'd never do anything that would require his forgiveness. But if he'd apparently forgotten it, she at least couldn't forget how she'd lied through her teeth to him for Verity's sake, how she'd betrayed his trust, thus involuntarily causing the ruin of his smelting company and of all he had tried to do to protect the miners from the Warleggans' rapacity. He'd never reproached her Julia's death, either, but she knew he could have. She had brought the disease with her after her foolish attempt to mend fences, her reckless act of compassion.

But until then, no matter how many times he'd repeated it to her, she'd not been able to believe that his night with Elizabeth had been just that : a had been convinced it had been an irresistible passion, a deep, ingrained attachment that had pushed Ross, in the end, into the arms of the only woman he'd ever loved.

So she had wanted him to admit it, to face the consequences of it. And she had willed herself to give up on him, to move on.

But now that he'd said the right words, maybe she could believe that she was the one he loved, especially when he was looking at her with eyes filled with such a passionate devotion.

She had to understand better, though. So she asked softly :

"Why did you spend so much time with her after Francis's death, if you don't love her ?"

"Well at the time, I thought I did. I thought I loved you both, in different ways, and that Elizabeth needed me. She'd never had to take care herself of any kind of material problem, and now she had an estate to run. And she constantly asked for my help."

"That I can believe", muttered Demelza.

"Being so often with her… it reminded me so much of the moments we spent together before I went to war. I realize now that it was the feelings of hope, of carefree happiness that I wanted back. Not her."

It was as if now that he had found the first rights words to explain himself, these words were flowing more and more easily, as if he was discovering more and more long-hidden truth.

"So you don't love her anymore ?"

He sighed.

"In a way, I think I never did. I loved a woman called Elizabeth, but who wasn't the one who lives at Trenwith."

"And you only realized that after your night with her ?"

"More or less. That she could have accepted George's proposal…It was suddenly as if I didn't know her at all. Only it didn't seem possible, I had spent years believing I didn't know anyone as well as I knew her. I had to go and see her. And then…"

Still holding her, he took a step back to look into her eyes.

"I don't make excuses for what I did. But that night, we'd just lost two men at the mine, and it was my fault. It seemed that it was just a matter of weeks before we were completely destitute, unable to pay back the loan. Everything seemed in ruin around me. And suddenly what I thought I knew about Elizabeth…was shattered too.

"I don't know what possessed me, but it wasn't love, of that I'm sure…. Anger, despair, mixed with desire... But when I woke up at her side… even that was gone. All I could think about was how was it possible that I had betrayed you in such a way."

"Why didn't you explain me that when you came back ?"

"I tried…. But I was so ashamed, you were so angry… And I couldn't understand what had happened to me. I had spent so many years…dreaming of her, admiring her ... It took time for me to make sense of what had happened. To understand that my feelings for her wouldn't come back. And it took me even more time to understand that these feelings had never had anything to do with real love in the first place."

"Loving a remote, perfect but imaginary idol is no love. You're the one I love. You're the one who is at my side and whom I'll always want at my side to share the joys and the burdens. The one who make me feel stronger. Had the real Elizabeth ever had that heart of yours, open to every living creature ? Had she ever had your ability to welcome the simplest moments of happiness, to comfort the ones in pain, all what makes me want to be a better man, to be worthy of you?... And who would put up with my recklessness and my mulish disposition except someone almost as foolhardy and as stubborn ? I came to realize what a lucky man I am : even your imperfections are perfect for me. No other woman in the world could be that perfect for me."

How could she not believe him, now ? Oblivious of the tears of joys flowing on her cheeks, she let him wrapp her in his arms, and put her head on his shoulder, overwhelmed by a feeling of relief, of belonging. And then, she whispered softly in return :

"And there is no other man in the world for me, and never will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end, at least for the moment, I think.  
> Please, please, give me some last reviews or kudos ! And a big thanks to all those who already did.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos, or a review even if it's so say you don't agree with my take on Ross's thoughts. I like so much to know what people think.


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